Growing Old Together
by twobedroomtardis
Summary: i) They were fighting again, and Rory Williams had had enough of fighting. ii) Amy Williams really was a bit fairytale when she thought about it. It sounded quite nice. My pre-AotD headcanon for the Amy/Rory disaster (therefore officially AU). Spoilers for S5 and S6.
1. He Wanted to Forget

They were fighting again, and Rory Williams had had enough of fighting.

But then, when they weren't fighting, they were doing nothing.

Rory Williams had had _two thousand years _worth of nothing. (Except for those moments in between when he'd been in wars; he was always protecting her. But he'd always sat back down.)

"I _hate_ you!"

He flinched. Then he turned to her. "You don't mean that."

Amy said nothing, and he took that to mean that she wasn't sure _what_ it was that she was trying to say. "Okay, Amy. Maybe you do."

He sighed and pushed open the door, his jacket in one hand and an exasperated sigh escaping his mouth. "No!" she exclaimed.

"Amy," Rory was begging, which was new to him; at that precise moment, he wanted no struggle. Rory wanted no fight. He wanted her to _let him go_. It wasn't as though he wouldn't be back anyway.

"No," her repetition was more sincere, matching the pleading tone that he had used a moment earlier. He continued walking.

She followed, at least. Long enough to yell after him.

"I hate _this_!"

_So do I Amy, _he thought to himself. He knew it was probably meant as some sort of an apology, a revision at the very least. She was trying to tell him that it wasn't _him_ that she hated. It was _this._ It was all of this fighting. It was the past few weeks. It was the lack of adventure, of excitement; it was the thought of settling down.

They couldn't even have a daughter without involving parallel universes and alternate timelines.

And later, when he sat on the bus, holding the brown envelope that contained everything necessary to put an end to their relationship, he wondered if maybe he should have stayed. He wanted to forget, was what he really wanted.

He didn't want to remember those 2000 years. ("_Not the sort of thing anyone forgets." "But I don't remember it all the time. It's like this door in my head, I can keep it shut.")_

He wanted to forget that he died for her. Over and over. (_"We were on the hill. I can't die here." "Don't say that." "You're so beautiful. I'm sorry.)_

He wanted to forget that she had made a choice, when everything had been lost._ (__"__Either way, this is my only chance of seeing him again. This is the dream." "How do you know?" "Because if this is real I don't want it. I don't want it.")_

And then she made some other choices. And she'd called him beautiful. _(__"__You know when sometimes you meet someone so beautiful and then you actually talk to them and five minutes later they're as dull as a brick? Then there's other people, when you meet them you think, 'Not bad. They're okay.' And then you get to know them and, and their face just sort of becomes them. Like their personality's written all over it. And they just turn into something so beautiful. Rory's the most beautiful man I've ever met.")_

He wanted to forget about 'stupid face.' _("I love you. I know you think it's him. I know you think it ought to be him. But it's not. It's you. And when I see you again I'm gonna tell you properly, just to see your stupid face. My life was so boring before you just dropped out of the sky. Just get your stupid face where I could see it, okay? Okay.")_

He wanted to forget being the loyal soldier _waiting_ to be noticed. _("Always the pattern. Why is that?")_

Waiting.

Waiting 2000 years. _("Will she be safer if I stay? Look me in the eye and tell me she wouldn't be safer." "Yes. Obviously." "Then how could I leave her?")_

Always waiting.

Always. _("She can always hear me, Doctor. Always, wherever she is and she always knows that I am coming for her. Do you understand me? Always.")_

And he didn't want to let it all end now, but he would, if he had to – he could. He just had to keep telling himself that.


	2. She Takes a Breath

Amelia Pond, like a name in a fairytale. What an awful fairytale this turned out to be.

What kind of prince was Rory Williams, the Centurion Who Waited 2000 Years but couldn't wait out a little relationship trouble?

As a matter of fact, what kind of fairytale name was Amy Williams?

She takes a breath, follows the path Rory walked moments ago, and ends up at the front door. She sees the bus leave (sees, but doesn't watch) and then walks out to shut the gate. He didn't even leave a note. Forgot his phone, too, so she couldn't call. He'd probably pick up a new one wherever he ended up.

He'd probably pick up a phone at the shop, and pick up some bloody gorgeous girl at a pub.

She takes a breath, thinks about it all logically. She signed the papers, made it all official. That was her choice. This was their choice. Their fucking choice. And it wasn't as though she didn't _know _Rory. Of course he wouldn't drop her and then go off to another woman. No, this was Rory.

This was her Rory.

He was always there for her, the bloody idiot. Always supporting her, making her smile, helping her with schoolwork when that was an issue. He was always, he was always, he –

She takes a breath, shudders her way through the inhale, and then she holds it.

_Rory Williams, you stupid, beautiful man, _she thought, _I'm going to love you forever, aren't I?_

Exhales.

If he could wait 2000 years for her (more, actually, if she was counting the years before they first got together), she could wait a bit of time for him. He'd be back. Right? He'd come back to her. Where he belongs.

Amy Williams _was_ a bit fairytale when she thought about it. It sounded quite nice.

She takes a breath. The front door opens.

"I forgot my phone." That's Rory's voice.

She doesn't move, doesn't think she _could _move if she tried. She looks on the coffee table in front of her (she ended up on the couch somehow), and his phone is there. When he enters the room, she can move again, but she can't speak. That's a new sensation. She reaches out, picks up the phone and he enters the room. Her hand, the one that's holding the phone, shoots up to pass it over to him.

He takes it tentatively, making sure they don't so much as touch fingertips. "Uh, thanks," he says, and begins walking towards the door for the second time that day. The door slams – he didn't want to stay long enough to close the door properly, let alone say goodbye. They didn't hug, hadn't kissed in weeks. He'd taken the guest bedroom the second night of fighting. She just, just wanted,

"You're welcome," she murmurs, and then realizes she can speak again.

Her hands are shaking as she stands.

She takes a breath, leans on the wall for support as she walks. Opens the door, and then the gate soon after.

Sees him at the bus stop and breaks into a run before that fucking bus can take him away again.

"_Rory!_"

**Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! Don't hesitate to review! (As you wished, Miss/Mister justkeeptyping, an update.) I'll squeeze in a part three, probably, at some point, with total resolution, yeah?**


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